Supernatural For Millie Winchester
by wolf-gabby23
Summary: Dean Winchester's twin sister, named after John Winchester's mother, Millie. John couldn't have lived with himself if Millie knew the horrors in the world's shadows. His sons, he could train them, make them warriors, hunters. But not his little girl. Where on Earth did she end up? Does she end up knowing anyway? A hunter like her brothers? Or a normal civilian?
1. Prologue

_Supernatural for Millie Winchester_

* * *

 **Prologue**

Mummy was walking out of Sammy's nursery when she spotted me and my twin brother, Dean in Daddy's arms. She smiled and clapped her hands twice before reaching for me, taking me from Daddy into her own arms.

'Time for bed, my baby girl,' Mummy tickled my tummy. I curled my hands to protect my tummy as I giggled.

'Can we say nigh' night to Sammy?' I asked.

'Of course, sweetheart, you and Dean may kiss Sammy nigh' night,' she smiled, carrying me into the nursery where baby Sammy lay, falling asleep.

Mummy knelt down so I could reach him and gave him a kiss on his head. 'Nigh night, Sammy. Angels are watching over us.'

Daddy did the same for Dean. He bent right over to give him a hug and a kiss. 'Nigh night, Sammy. Angels are watching.'

I let out a big yawn and laid my head on Mummy's shoulder. She gave me a kiss on the head. 'Nigh night, baby girl. Angels are watching over you. I love you so much.'

Before I knew Mummy was walking, she laid me on my bed, giving me another kiss after she tucked me in.

'I love you, Mummy,' I yawned again, sleepily.

'Love you too, baby girl.'

Daddy came over and gave me a kiss. 'Nigh night, Millie. I love you so much, my little girl. Sweetest dreams.'

'I love you too, Daddy, nigh night.'

The light turned off not long after, and before Dean or I could fall asleep, we hoped out of bed and gave each other a hug.

'Nigh night, Millie. Angels are watching,' Dean kissed my head, like he does every night, he tucked me back into bed.

'Nigh night, Dean. Angels are watching,' he knelt down to the low bed, to let me kiss him on his head.

But instead of going back into his bed, before I fell fast asleep, he jumped into my bed next to me. He did whenever he had a bad dream or couldn't fall asleep. I didn't mind, I liked knowing he was okay. That nothing bad got him. That angels really did watch over us.

I lost my faith.

Angels wouldn't have let Mummy go into the fire.

Angels wouldn't have taken her away to heaven when me and Dean and Sammy were all so small.

Angels wouldn't have left Daddy to look after us all by himself.

Not that he did.

Eight days after Mummy was left in the bad fire, Dad took me to a friend of his, he packed my bag and said. 'Uncle Jay will look after you, sweetheart. Don't you worry, I'll come straight back for you.'

Four weeks later, I hear the familiar rumble of Dad's car, although I was still only four, I knew that sound anywhere.

This time, he left Sammy with me. I barely got to hug my twin before Dad slipt us up, yet again.

Uncle Jay and Aunty Susie looked after me and Sammy until Sammy could almost walk. He was crawling and hanging on to chairs and things to stand. Aunty Susie says it won't be long before he starts walking. It was a very long time before Dad came back for us. Just before our birthday.

There was a piece of me, although glad to have Sammy with me, deeply missed my twin. I yearned for him at night, when I couldn't sleep, or I had nightmares of the fire or big bad monsters. I yearned for him so much and so often, it hurt. I wanted to see my brother. My twin.

I didn't trust the angels to watch over him anymore. I needed to know that he was okay. With me. _Right here._

Uncle Jay and Aunty Susie were so good to us, they gave us a room and fed us and looked after us, and once a week, would take us to the park, where we could meet other kids like us.

But none of those kids were my twin. I missed him so much, I couldn't even play. The only reason I still did was to keep Sammy happy.

In one month's time, I'll be going to pre-school, Aunty Susie tells me.

When I ask who would look after Sammy while I'm gone, Aunty Susie gets this look on her face, kind of sad but not really, when she tells me that she would look after Sammy for me.

I'll be five soon. So will Dean. Will we have a party? Will Dad come and bring Dean back to me? I hope so.

He did.

But it was worse.

Worse than not having him next to me.

Worse than the most scary of nightmares.

Worse still, this wasn't a nightmare. It was all real.

Dean was different. He didn't play, didn't laugh but didn't cry. Not once. He barely even noticed me, he looked right through me.

What on earth did Dad do to him?

I just wanted my twin back, instead I got someone else who just looked like him. Something happened to him, and now I've lost my twin, probably forever.

Yet worse again, when Dad said to pack mine and Sammy's bags, I thought he was taking us with them, well, he did. But he dropped me off at another friend's place. Aunty Ellen and Jo's Roadhouse. Just me, alone. No twin, no baby brother, no father and no mother.

Is this all my life has to offer?

* * *

 **A/N: Heya guys! Sorry, I know, I should be working on other stories, but I couldn't help it, this idea was so awesome! Let me know if you think so too!**

 **Lots of love and apologies,**

 **Wolf-gabby23 xoxo**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Millicent Winchester."

I didn't even turn to see who it was before groaning in annoyance. _'It's just Millie,'_ I mumbled under my breath. Every time.

I put the book back on the shelf and turned to see who was calling me.

Someone important apparently. With the suit, the tie and the little man bag – sorry, briefcase.

"Yes?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow in obvious annoyance when he didn't continue.

"Some gentlemen are here to see you," he turned and walked back through the tight aisle and down the narrow staircase.

I dropped my shoulders. I'm actually in the library doing research – whoop dee fucking doo – and they interrupt. Now how rude is that?

I put a bookmark next to the very relevant book I found, picked up my bag and followed the stranger back into the 'normal' part of the library.

Two men in suit and ties are waiting at the entrance, hands clasped together in front of them. The random dude who found me, reached them first and said something I didn't quite catch. But if I had to, I'd say he just said; _'Crowley will be pleased. She's a Winchester, all right.'_

But I had to have heard wrong, didn't I? There aren't many Winchester's left in our family. And I don't know a Crowley. Maybe my long lost brothers did. But they probably weren't talking about Dad, since he passed a couple of years ago.

Dad used to send me postcards or something on my birthday and Christmas. They wouldn't say much. Just _Happy Birthday Baby Girl_ , or _Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Millie._ When they stopped, I didn't notice until Christmas. I thought he may have just forgotten, but my birthday soon followed, no card either.

That was when I started worrying. He never missed my birthday. Christmas, yeah a couple of times, but never my birthday. I was living on my own by then, I called all of my friends and aunties, people who had raised me over the years, and they all gave me the bad news. My father had passed. There wasn't even a funeral, no one said a word to tell me. It was almost a year since he passed that I actually found out. I was twenty-seven. And I hadn't seen my father or my brothers since I was five.

I have no idea what either of my brothers look like. I'm now thirty-two. I have a husband and a daughter of my own. Mary. Named after my loving mother.

Since Jason wanted to continue the Winchester name, since I didn't know what my brothers were up to, and he has four brothers to continue their family name so, we decided that he'd change his name for me to my family's name to continue it.

We married in 2004, when I was 25, Mary was born the following year. She'll be seven in May. Jason and I were thinking of having another child, but so far, nothing has come by. It's getting late in life to have another. We'll have to have it soon, or not at all. And I didn't want to leave Mary all by herself.

I wished I could see my brothers again. I missed them. Dean especially.

"Miss Winchester?" One suit asked, barely moving.

"Yeah?" I asked, on the edge of irritation.

"Come with us," they both turned to the door, walking to a fancy car without waiting for an answer.

"What –?" Shocked, I could barely understand why they wanted to talk to me. I'm nobody. "I have a husband and daughter to go home to, this won't take long will it?" I recovered, following them outside, phone in hand.

They didn't answer me, just opened the car door of a heavily tinted window.

"A daughter? Well I simply must meet this child," a heavy accent – British or Scottish? A bit of both? – came from within. This must be the boss. "Please, take a seat."

Cautiously, I made my way gingerly into the car, perched on the edge of the seat, like a bird waiting to catch flight.

"Miss Millie Winchester. What a delight is it to finally meet you," he wore a dark blue suit, black hair and a little beard at the edges of his chin and upper lip, an aura of demanding authority surrounded him.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, yet I have no clue who you are."

"Please, call me Crowley," so this is Crowley. He actually exists.

"I suppose I'd have to go ahead and say it's a pleasure to meet you too, but I don't usually say that to people I haven't heard about before, let's have a bit more of an introduction before pleasantries are made, shall we?"

"Oh, I like you, a bit on the feisty side are you, sweetheart?" he smiled a smile that is more likely described as; smug smirk.

"You have no idea," I replied cryptically. I don't trust him. "Now, down to business. Why do you wish to speak to me in this manner?"

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't really want to talk to you, this was more of a pleasantry then necessity. Put simply, sweetheart, I'm kidnapping you."

That was all that I remembered.

My head pounded with a raging headache. I groaned in pain. My muscles were uncomfortable, meaning I was out for a while. Stretching them out, I heard a familiar voice.

"About time, sweetheart. I was beginning to think this was all one-sided," he smirked.

The events of what happened came rushing back to me. "YOU KIDNAPPED ME?!"

He looked surprised at my sudden outburst of anger. But he quickly got over it, waving an off hand gesture. "Oh, no need for this overreaction."

"What –? How can you say that?! You kidnapped me! My husband's going to be worried sick!"

"This is a simple ransom, sweetheart. When I get what I want, I'll let you go."

"How can I trust you?"

"You can't. But I'm telling you how it is. Not that I'll tell them that, in fact, I'll threaten your life."

"What? How can you say that and except me to trust you?" I asked, shocked.

"I don't except you too, just trust that you'll see your dearest daughter again."

"Ha, ha, hilarious," I was done being that damsel in distress. I'll take this, and hopefully walk out again.

"Sweetheart, I am serious."

I groaned, annoyed. "Can I just go home? My family's going to be worried about me."

"Of course you may go home, when I get what I want. You had to be awake to make this phone call much simpler."

I went to speak, but he cut my off with the wave of a hand, pulling out a black phone.

After a minute of holding it up to his ear, someone must of answered as he began what I heard one side of the conversation.

"Ah, Moose, so glad to hear your voice again," Crowley began into the phone.

"You know what I want, Moose. This time, I'm not asking nicely this time. Put me on speaker with Squirrel, would ya?

"Squirrel, can you hear me?

"Oh, I'm not asking. This time, I have something you want.

"This innocent girl, who doesn't know the truth, with a daughter, a husband, a little house to call home, a family. She'll die if you won't give it to me.

"Because, Squirrel. She isn't just anyone.

"No.

"Millie."

-o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o-


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 **Dean's POV**

"What do you want, Crowley?" I looked across the motel room we were staying in for the night – in-between jobs – to see Sam stand, phone to his ear, worried and slightly pissed-off expression.

"Hold on a sec," Sam motions me closer to him from where I was, trying to eavesdrop.

 _"Squirrel, can you hear me?"_

"Hearing you, Crowley. We won't give it to you, don't bother asking," this is the third time he's called, the first, to see if we had it, the second one, he was annoyed because we cloaked everything to do with us, to make us invisible to their methods.

 _"Oh, I'm not asking. This time, I have something you want."_

"And what exactly do I want?"

 _"This innocent girl, who doesn't know the truth, with a daughter, a husband, a little house to call home, a family. She'll die if you won't give it to me."_

"And why would I care about some random chick over this? The only thing the King of Hell himself wants."

 _"Because, Squirrel. She isn't just anyone."_

"No?"

 _"No."_

"Well then, who is it?"

 _"Millie."_

My heart stopped.

I haven't heard her name since I was a kid.

I haven't seen her since we were five.

No. Crowley doesn't know she exists. How can he? Dad and I erased everything to do with her existence. She's not a Winchester. She's not my twin, she wasn't born in Lawrence, Kansas. Her mother's name isn't Mary.

Millie Winchester doesn't exist.

 _Crowley's playing me_ , I realise. That's the only explanation.

"Should that name mean anything to me, Crowley?" I ask in a voice I hope sounds indifferent.

 _"You don't believe me, Squirrel. Do you?"_

"I believe you'd go to great lengths to get this from us, but I don't know this so-called Millie chic," I say truthfully, well, partial truths, anyway.

 _"He doesn't believe us, sweetheart, perhaps you should say hi,"_ his muffled voice sounded away from the phone, static sounds the other end.

 _"He has me, I don't know what he wants, don't give it to him –"_ she was abruptly cut off.

"What's your name?" Sam asks into the phone.

 _"Millie, Millie Winchester. Who are you?"_ No… I was hoping it was a trick.

"That's a strange coincidence," Sam started. "My brother and I are Winchester, too. Sorry for getting you into this mess, I think Crowley was mistaken."

 _"What's your name?"_ she asks curiously.

"Uh, Sam and my brother, Dean," I wasn't fast enough to stop him. She knows her brothers names. Sam doesn't know hers. If she says anything remotely like, 'OMG, you're my long lost brothers!' We are all doomed.

 _"Huh, I was thinking that maybe we were relatives or something, but I don't know anyone in my family named Sam or Dean. Sorry."_

She may have never known about the truth. But she sure has our Winchester personality. She knows when to shut up and act neutral.

There was a silence.

A tense, long, uncomfortable, nerve-racking silence.

 _"So sorry, sweetheart, I suppose my boys did make a mistake. Wrong family tree, it would seem."_

Oh, thank you God, wherever you are.

–– 0 ––

"Strange." Sam randomly stated during our dinner.

"Hm?" I sounded, in the middle of chewing a large bite of pie.

"Crowley doesn't usually make mistakes, not when threatening people."

"True, true," I mumble, still trying to swallow to form proper conversation manners.

"I mean, how many Winchesters are there, really?"

"Mm hmm."

"What are the chances? Maybe she's a cousin or something we never met? Did Mum have siblings? I didn't think so…"

"No."

"Then Dad? Could he have had siblings we didn't know of?"

"No," I took another bite.

"Then, is she like a second cousin? Our grandparent's siblings' children's children?"

"Hmm mm."

Sam's focused and confused eyes snapped to mine. "Why are you so indifferent about this?"

"What?" I ask, mouth full from my last bite. "I'm not, I'm hungry and I'm eating."

"Yeah, you are, why? Wait, do you know who this Millie is?"

"As I said before, why should that name mean anything to me?"

"Because you don't seem to care. It's weird for you man," Sam turns his full attention to me, eyebrows drawn in some serious confusion.

"I don't care about a lot of things, why should I care about a girl with the same last name? You heard her, she's never heard of us," I point out to him before taking another bite.

"That's the point, you _do_ care about her, that's why you're so indifferent!"

I sighed, annoyed at how well my little brother knows me. "Why do you care that I care?"

He jumps up. "So you do care!"

I stand up to, swallowing the delicious pie. "Yeah. I care. Why do you have to persistently try and find someone that I care about?"

"It shows you aren't a total douche after all. That's why."

"So I'm a douche now, nice, real nice," I add, sarcastically.

"That's not exactly what I meant –"

"Then what did you mean?!"

"That you actually care about someone other than me!"

"Why shouldn't I? Because I'm a hunter? Because I had to leave the only family I've had outside of you? Or maybe, because of the Mark on my arm? Huh? So? What is it, Sam?"

"It's everything!" Sam shouted.

"What?"

"You're different, Dean, there's something in you, Dean and it scares the hell out of me!"

"Scares you?"

"Yeah," his voice softened. "I'm sacred it's going to take you, Dean, make you into something else."

"It's not changing me, Sammy. I'm still here."

"Then prove it, tell me who this Millie is."

I sighed, he is very persistent when it comes to these sort of things. "What do you wanna know?"

"Who is she?"

Here goes nothing, "My – _our_ – sister."

Silence. Nearly a whole minute passed while he digested it.

I continued to eat, waiting for him to say something.

"Sister? How on Earth can we have a sister? How come I never knew?!"

"You didn't need to know, Sammy."

"I didn't need to know?! How long have you known?"

I scoffed. "My whole life, she's my twin."

"Twin?! There is no way this can get any weirder."

"Dad had friends who picked her up and looked after her, I haven't seen her since I was five. We left you and Millie at Uncle James and Aunty Susan's place for, like, ten weeks after Mum died, and while Dad found out the truth, up until our birthday. We took her to another friend who was willing to help raise her."

"How come she isn't a hunter, like us?" he asked softly.

"Dad couldn't raise her like he did us, he wouldn't have that on his conscious, I suppose."

"But he could raise us on a good conscious?" Anger seeped into his vocals.

"I think it was more… like he trusted his strong sons to be able to protect themselves, his little girl though… They say fathers have a soft spot for their girls."

"I wouldn't know, I've never knew a father or been one."

"Hey, I thought we were over this, Dad did the best he could, and at least he raised you and have me! Millie didn't have anyone! I'm just glad she's married and had kids – wait… that makes us…"

"Uncles."

-o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o- -o-


End file.
